


Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

by phrenitis



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-12
Updated: 2005-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrenitis/pseuds/phrenitis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Make a wish," she says quietly when a shooting star jets overhead. He takes her hand to lead her on, not wanting to turn around to see the recognition in her eyes as the echo of the bomb's detonation reaches them seconds later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

_"But there is already too much war,_  
you said, while violet rain  
started to fall, clinging  
to the space behind your ear."  
\-- Dudley M. Marchi, 'Envoi' 

_"Into each life some rain must fall."  
\-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

==

It is at forty-seven minutes after midnight, when they are crouched behind a pitiable mound of rocks in the rainfall, that she tells him she is scared.

He's watching the world through the green glow of his P-90, worrying about her being too cold and wet, about them being tired and injured and hungry, and it's only when he's distracted for too long by fluttering leaves in the distance that his mind finally wraps around her words.

"I'm sorry," she says with unreadable eyes when he looks at her.

==

They move among the shadows of trees, the staccato of gunfire – and the peculiar crackle of those laser swords – continuing to ricochet up forcefully from the valley of cities far below them. He avoids following the mountain's edge, preferring the depth of the forest sprawled across it though it forces him to steadily lose his fighting advantage.

She occasionally clutches at the waistband of his pants – cold fingers touching the small of his back as she follows silently behind.

Of all the times to find her beautiful, he chooses this one. With curls pushed haphazardly back behind her ears, and a flush to her cheeks from the cold, she's actually luminous.

He wonders why he thinks these things now when danger and survival are vying to be at the top of his attention span, but he finds that between plan A and plan B he thinks an awful lot about her, Atlantis, and oddly, football stats from 1972. 

Almost two hours on the run and she's holding it together better than some trained soldiers he could name. She has no questions, and very little argument anymore, but her resolve to escape the planet pushes her to continue up the mountainside.

"Make a wish," she says quietly when a shooting star jets overhead.

He takes her hand to lead her on, not wanting to turn around to see the recognition in her eyes as the echo of the bomb's detonation reaches them seconds later, but he feels the shock in the stiffening of her fingers.

==

They rest in a dark cave with a low ceiling, weapons at the ready though their hands are numb and their lungs hurt from their hours of breathing in the cold. A fire is the unspoken wish he's aware they can't have.

Elizabeth sits a pace away to his right, fierce determination written across her face and into the sidearm that rests steady in her hand.

She glances at him and he gives her a tired smile. "It's purple rain," he tells her unexpectedly.

He watches as she looks and sees the fat raindrops splatter upon the leaves outside, great violet puddles reflecting a moonlit forest.

Elizabeth says nothing.

==

By some stroke of good fortune, they're on the far side of the village when the fighting breaks out.

It had been a simple matter, a request made by a handful of village members to seek asylum on Atlantis from the extreme beliefs held by the rest of the world's population. Negotiations were swift and relatively painless; he gives all credit to Elizabeth on that account.

Now he watches as the Citizens come in their pristine white outfits over the hills to pour down upon the other side of the village – a sea of purity, they call it – and their laser swords begin to swing crackling through the air.

==

"I repeat, I've got Dr. Weir," he says again into the radio, unable to hear a response or even the tell-tale sputter of static over the explosions ringing in his ears. He waits a beat longer, and finally Ford's voice breaks through the noise around them.

"Roger that, sir." A muffled chatter of gunfire then, "Teyla and I are heading northwest to get around the backside of the gate."

There is no further message after he confirms.

Elizabeth has gone pale, but she continues to cover the doorway with his pistol as he gathers usable weapons from around the room. The options are limited, and at the swift rate the Citizens are approaching, he knows their best option is to make a run for it.

He crouches down beside her, feeling the adrenaline begin to build. "Ready?"

She nods, and he begins to lead the way.

==

Midnight arrives with no fanfare, no blaze of weaponry, and he thinks they can make it to Teyla and Ford in the next couple of hours.

"We're getting closer," he says when she sees him checking his watch.

She nods slowly, tiredly, and he pulls her down to sit on a fallen log. She doesn't so much as breathe a sigh of relief, and a flare of guilt burns in his gut. He's asked more of her than he expected he'd be able to; they give medals to soldiers for pulling through the way she has.

He crosses behind the log to sit next to her, facing in the opposite direction to keep all sides covered. They haven't heard the rattle of gunfire in a while, and the silence of the woods unnerves him.

"This is one for the books," she suddenly says, faint amusement coloring her words.

It's the last thing he expects her to say, and he laughs quietly in agreement.

She leans sideways into him, her shoulder pressing against his as she bows her head. It's an indication that she's exhausted, if nothing else.

==

He manages to sleep, waking only once when the few feet of space he put between them narrows as she turns towards him.

Her eyes are open when he looks down at her, his hand shying away from touching her face and finding solace by sliding gently across her waist. His fingers brush metal and he discovers his sidearm tucked in the band at the back of her pants.

She doesn't shift away, but her eyes close for a moment. "Our odds in this galaxy aren't looking very good," she states softly.

==

At first it is a flash of light, a radiant white that implodes on itself in exchange for an expanding flame of yellow. The furious voice of the explosion soon follows, and the ground beneath them shatters in response.

He's knocked off his feet immediately, sharp chunks of wood and rocks and trees flying at him with deadly swiftness. He averts his face, catching a glimpse of her red shirt at his back, and then she's pulling on the collar of his uniform, dragging him backward and away.

He is surprised to notice that there are no stars in the sky.

==

Her hands shake - her fingertips lightly caressing the bruised areas of his skin - as they assess the damage down his arm. It's not life-threatening, but what he wouldn't give for a bottle of tequila right about now.

"You're doing great," he tells her repeatedly, and sometimes he thinks he's almost convinced himself.

She kneels close to him, a leg nearly in his lap as she binds his arm tightly to his chest.

Dirt and blood run in watery violet streaks across her face, and impulsively, while she's still bent close to him, he rubs at her cheek with his thumb. She goes still, and green eyes flicker up to meet his.

He finds his breath, pulls his hand away. "... was a bit of a mess going on there."

The rain continues to fall, dripping from the curls in her hair to fall upon his legs. After all their time working together he thinks he should be able to read her expressions better, but he doesn't know how to explain the look in her eyes, and he isn't even sure if she'd want him to.

He can count the number of times he's seen her vulnerable – really vulnerable – on the fingers of his right hand, and his usual response is to apologize (it's likely his fault), to fight (white knight, bravado, protector and all that), or to kiss her. There has yet to be an opportunity to follow through on the third, and despite the danger they're trying to avoid at this moment, he's having a hard time thinking of how to respond with anything else.

It happens so fast he's still thinking of how he's going to explain himself if he kisses her, when her lips press softly to his.

==

It's Teyla who finds them first, appearing from behind a grove of trees a handful of yards ahead of them.

"We were unable to secure the stargate," she explains as she leads them to where Ford waits.

"How many are we looking at?"

He sees Teyla glance in Elizabeth's direction, and meets Elizabeth's eyes when she looks at him.

Teyla shakes her head. "It could be better."

==

They are on the heels of Ford and Teyla, feet from the gate, when she turns at the close crackling of a laser sword.

It's the look in her eyes as she focuses on a spot over his shoulder, and he already knows what's coming.

He shoves her – may she forgive him – through the gate, feeling the electric current of the sword cut through the vest on his back. His vision blurs into water swirls of blue as pain floods his system and he feels his knees begin to buckle.

But she grabs for him as she falls backward, her hand just catching on the front of his shirt, and she's pulling him through the wormhole after her.

==

He's in the infirmary two days when she returns his gun to him.

They're finally equal when it comes to who saved whom this time around, and he feels uncomfortable knowing they're likely going to be put in a similar situation one day in the future.

"It's not always like this," he finds himself saying.

She stands at his bedside, looking like the Dr. Weir he's come to rely on save for two healing cuts that run down the side of her forehead.

"No," she finally answers, "But that has never made it easier."

His agreement is in his silence, and he watches her hands clasp and unclasp in front of her before she turns to leave. She doesn't look back, but he's seen the images that play in her head, can see his own when he closes his eyes.

Sometimes surviving is only the beginning.

 

- _Fin_


End file.
